A War On Two Fronts
by cranesandcranesandcranes
Summary: It's been a tough first six months together for Renee Young and Sami Zayn. Now their relationship faces two new threats; Summer Rae's attempts at bullying Renee have fallen flat since she found Sami, so she vows to destroy the source of her new-found confidence. Meanwhile behind his apparently innocent offer of friendship, Dean Ambrose has his own rather unsettling plans for Renee.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello all. Felt like revisiting this couple, so this is a follow-on from the Treat two-shot, set around now (April 2014), six months on from that story. It's set in kayfabe, so any real-life off-screen interactions between these people have not happened. I'm aware Summer and Renee are good friends in real-life and she and Dean may or may not be dating. These are their wrestling characters. Hope you enjoy!**

"That'll be my taxi," Renee sighed as the blaring of a car horn sounded through the balmy late afternoon air.

"Fuck!" Sami explained, banging his fist down on the balcony table.

"What? You knew what time I was leaving. It's the same as any other week," Renee replied plaintively, somewhat disappointed with her boyfriend opting for the tantrum route while she tried to put a brave face on the situation as ever.

"That's just it. Every time I get the slightest bit used to having you around, you're taken away from me. It's like fucking Groundhog Day," Sami replied, joining Renee on her feet and following her into the apartment as she gathered her assembled luggage from by the door.

"It's the business we're in, mon cherie," Renee answered with a nonchalant shrug, determined not to be made to dwell on the prospect that 75% of her days were spent hundreds or even thousands of miles away from the man she loved.

"But how the fuck are we supposed to move things forward?" Sami went on.

"Living together means nothing when one of us is never home."

"So that's what you think, is it?" Renee snapped, the insolence of that last comment forcing her to abandon her air of passive calm.

"We're still at square one? The last six months have been meaningless? Please, think before you speak every so often."

"You know that's not what I meant…" Sami breathed softening his tone and pulling her lightly towards him by her wrist.

"…I love you. I really love you. Too much to spend five out of every seven days of the week making do with a phonecall. That's my main motivation for busting my ass in the ring now; hoping that someone in Stamford will notice and let me out on the road with you."

"If you love me then stop making me feel guilty for doing what I'm paid to do, which, lest we forget, is the whole reason we came into each other's lives in the first place," Renee implored, meeting him directly in his eyes.

"This is my dream just as it is yours. It was always gonna be like this. All we can do is support one another and make the most of the time we do have. Now, I've got to get going. I'll call you when I get to Raleigh. I love you."

A peck on the lips and a slam of the door and Sami was alone yet again. The decision to finally bite the bullet and act upon his feelings towards Renee that Halloween night had been one of his best ever, he still maintained that. However, there were times where he wondered whether exposing himself to the many-splendored glory of their time together was doing him more harm than good in present circumstances.

Six months on he still seemed no closer to a permanent spot on the main roster; his celebrated encounters with Cesaro earning him little more than a pat on the back and an honorable mention. Meanwhile, Renee's profile on Raw and Smackdown was growing by the week, meaning more and more days spent apart.

He wanted to be there to console her after a particularly intense interview, or if Summer or some other odious bully took it upon themselves to bring her down as they had in the past. He wanted her gorgeous face to be the first one he saw whenever he came back through the curtain after his matches, so he had something to be cheerful about win or lose. He wanted to end every day with her in his arms.

But for the time being that was almost impossible. Were two days a week with her really better than nothing if they made the time in between was so torturous?

* * *

'_Sorry about earlier. Will resolve to spend the rest of this week growing the fuck up. Love you xxxx'_

Renee's smile could have lit up the whole departure lounge. She couldn't stay mad at this man, ever. He was sweet and caring beyond compare. Not to mention devilishly handsome, amazing in bed, a really great cook, she could go on…

She felt exactly the same way he did. The fact people with barely an ounce of the talent Sami had were getting the call-up over him made it ten times worse. But she believed in him, she believed in herself, and she knew that together they would be taking the WWE by storm sooner rather than later.

"What are you so happy about, _Renee_?" Renee shut her eyes and gritted her teeth as a shrill, mewling voice filled her ears and a tall, spindly figure in a blinding hot pink mini-dress blocked her line of vision.

Summer Rae dressed for a flight as she would the red carpet. Once upon a time that intimidated Renee. Not anymore.

"Do you own any clothing that doesn't show us all exactly what you ate for breakfast, _Summer_?" she spat back. She used to fiercely dread these confrontations. She almost relished them now.

"You're about to find out in even more graphic detail when I throw up at the thought of _you_ squeezed into a dress like this," Summer retorted. Renee merely laughed it off.

"My my my, we are insecure today, aren't we?" Renee cooed malevolently.

"…What's up? Did Fandango call out his own name in bed again? Has he finally admitted he loves his baby oil more than his baby girl?"

"Things are going better than ever, thank you very much!" Summer snapped indignantly and rather unconvincingly. Renee wasn't done.

" The reason I was smiling, since you asked, was because I've snagged myself the coolest, funniest, most thoughtful guy in the WWE. I don't need to wear clothes I have to be poured into, or prostitute my life to reality TV, or take a selfie every two minutes in order to feel appreciated."

Summer was bright red with rage and embarrassment. Renee could see her racking her brains for an appropriate reply. In the end all she could muster was a frustrated 'humph' as she tottered away as quickly as her stilettos would allow.

Renee allowed herself a silent but hearty laugh. To think that was the exact situation that six months ago would have rendered her speechless and powerless as Summer's superficial putdowns cut way deeper than they ought to. To think that an encounter with that woman used to result in a sleepless night or a session spent sobbing into the mirror, lamenting that whatever she did, she would never quite measure up to the statuesque superwomen that populated the business she loved.

That had all changed, and Sami Zayn was the reason why. Any of the confidence in her appearance that had evaporated amid the breakdown of her engagement and her move to the WWE had been replenished and added to during their time together. He never left her in any doubt that as far as he was concerned, she was all the woman he could wish for.

In a flash these minor imperfections Summer was so fond of pointing out became just that; barely worth considering. If they didn't bother Sami, they didn't bother Renee.


	2. Chapter 2

"So I'm like, 'do you know who I am? I'm not dating a fucking waiter. If you owned the restaurant, _then_ maybe we'd talk,'" Charlotte recounted witheringly.

"Nice!" Sasha exclaimed in approval, clapping her hands together.

"Decided what you're wearing yet for Friday?"

"I'm torn between the two dresses I bought last week. I put them up on Instagram actually," Charlotte replied.

"Ooh! Let me see…" Sasha chirped excitedly, consulting her phone.

"O…M…G… definitely the red one!"

"You think?"

"If I had legs like yours, girl, I'd barely leave an inch of them covered."

"Thanks, Boss!"

"Will you two just _shut up_ one second?!" Summer thundered out of nowhere. Both BFFs instantly ceased their excited chatter and snapped to attention. The power and influence she held over the two younger women never failed to give Summer a primal rush.

But this was the way Summer felt it should be. They owed her everything. Before she came along, Sasha was just another dreary, mousy nerd immersed in kids' cartoons and weird foreign films, while Charlotte was trembling in the shadow of her family legacy and hanging around with Bayley; the dictionary definition of dork.

Thanks to Summer they'd grown into strong, sexy, stylish Divas. And in return for this tremendous gift, she needed their help in re-establishing supremacy over another of the biggest rejects she had ever encountered.

"Is everything OK, Summer?" Sasha asked meekly.

"No, Sasha, everything is not OK…" came Summer's terse reply.

"…remember when we were on top? Remember when all the freaks and geeks in that locker room knew their place? When girls would arrive at the arena in their gear rather than go in there and face us? When we were making some lame excuse for a Diva burst into tears on a weekly basis?"

"Hey, we're still running the show…" Charlotte began to protest.

"Are we?!" snapped Summer, cutting right across her.

"Cos that's not what I see. I see that socially retarded cat lady Bayley picking up victories over us; I see that pasty freak Paige carrying _two_ titles. And worst of all, Renee fucking Young is standing up to me! How did we let this happen?"

"Ugh, she's been so full of herself since Sami came on the scene…" Sasha scowled in disdain.

"…Like he's some prime catch or something."

"Well, getting her hands on any kind of wrestler must be something of a dream come true for a fawning fangirl like her…" Charlotte scoffed.

"…if you're looking for someone who's into flabby arms and lumpy asses _and _is also a WWE superstar you can't be too picky."

Sasha and Charlotte descended into childish giggling. Summer, however, was still in no mood to laugh.

"Be that as it may, the point is; somehow she's managed to convince herself she's on my level, that a dowdy, gawky little plain Jane like her belongs in the same business as the likes of me," Summer went on, the storm clouds beginning to gather in her eyes, letting her cohorts know that one of her trademark devious schemes was about to be hatched.

"So, what are we gonna do?" Charlotte asked eagerly. Of the two she was always the most eager to partake in plotting another Diva's downfall.

"This has gone far beyond pranks and name-calling…" Summer dictated.

"…she took my pride, so in return I'm gonna take the most important thing that she has, the thing that meant she was able to challenge me in the first place."

"Stealing her boyfriend?" Sasha questioned in shock.

"Maybe that's going a bit too far, don't you think?"

"Oh, Sashy, Sashy, Sashy…" Summer cooed mockingly.

"…still so much to learn. You see, there are two types of people in this world; the winners, and the losers; those that have it and those who do not. _I _have it, and thanks to me, so do the two of you. But Renee; Renee with her superhero T-shirts, and her two left feet and her tragic sense of humour. She doesn't belong here. This isn't the place for being 'just like one of the guys', for being 'girl-next-door relatable.' She should go back to talking about WWE for her tiny audience of horny Canadian basement-dwellers. That's where she belongs; on the outside looking in. It's time I reminded her of that."

Sasha and Charlotte looked at her, mouths agape. Summer scared them sometimes. And that was just the way she liked it.

"So how are you going to tempt him away?" Charlotte asked, before hurriedly adding:

"…not that I doubt you could."

"Oh, it can't be me who does it. And it can't be one of you two either. Sami might be stupid enough to shack up with Renee, but even he'd have enough about him to smell a rat if any of us tried it on…" Summer began, getting to her feet and beginning to survey the assembled NXT roster sat about the backstage catering area.

"…no, it's got to be someone he would least suspect; someone spineless and sniveling enough to do whatever we ask of them. Someone he'll pity, someone Renee wouldn't see as a threat. And I know just the girl…"


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to everyone who viewed and reviewed the first couple of chapters. Got a bit stuck with how to move things forward but I think I've got it sussed now. Hope you enjoy!**

"Hey, JoJo! How was your day off?" Charlotte cooed with a vindictive sneer.

WWE's youngest diva shivered at the sound, her insides burning with fear and self-loathing. Just two days ago things had been going so well; she'd just picked up her first singles victory at a house show in Pensacola and was heading out of the venue on cloud nine when she was approached by one Sasha Banks.

When JoJo first reported to Florida a year prior, Sasha had been one of the first girls with whom she'd been able to break the ice, and she'd had high hopes that it was the start of a beautiful friendship. However, since Summer swooped in, Sasha had slowly transformed into the kind of person JoJo felt herself best served staying well away from.

Yet here Sasha was, offering an olive branch in the shape of an invite to a secret party in a warehouse on the edge of town. Summer and Charlotte had bailed on her, she said. She wasn't sure whether they liked her all that much. Why on Earth had she believed her? She supposed she hoped that beneath the layers of make-up and the sassy new wardrobe, some remnants of the sweet, down-to-Earth girl she'd met all those months ago remained. What happened next killed those hopes stone dead.

There was no warehouse party. Of course there wasn't. Instead, JoJo found herself stranded on an industrial estate in the middle of nowhere, with no chance of escape as the BFFs tabled the vile, spiteful scheme they wanted her help in executing. If she refused, aside from the immediate threat of a 3-on-1 assault, Summer had assured JoJo she would do everything in her power to make sure she never darkened WWE's doors again, and that all of her remaining days would be a living hell.

She'd watched enough of Summer and friends' relentless hate campaigns towards various other girls, some of which had disappeared one day never to return again, to be sufficiently terrified into agreeing. They had her exactly where they wanted her; either give in to their advances or watch her dream go up in smoke. She'd come too far for that to happen. That didn't stop her hating herself for the part she was about to play in another innocent woman's heartbreak.

"How was my... I've barely slept, or ate, or stopped crying," JoJo lamented despairingly, hoping for a glimmer of remorse to appear on one of the three smirking faces that surrounded her in the arena lobby; instead they seemed to revel in this news.

"See, normally you can tell when someone's had a rough night from the bags under their eyes and the messy hair. But you've got that going on 24/7, so..." Sasha crowed, eliciting forced, mocking laughter from her companions. JoJo couldn't even find the energy to be offended.

"Please. Let's just get this over with," JoJo implored meekly.

"Ooh, eager, are we? I like that!" Summer cut in with enthusiasm.

"I'm anything but eager. How could you do this to me? And to poor Renee. I don't..." from out of nowhere, JoJo's conscience and pride made their brave last stand, but soon were overcome by a fresh wave of tears.

"Perfect!" Charlotte exclaimed suddenly.

"...Get her to catering while she's still crying. See how pathetic she looks? There's no way Sami will be able to resist playing the white knight now."

"You're right. Five minutes to curtain, JoJo," Summer breathed with an acidic snarl in JoJo's ear as Sasha and Charlotte frog-marched her along the corridor.

* * *

"Two-hour drive to Gainesville just to find out I'm not booked. They're fucking with me on purpose so I get bored and leave, aren't they? This is just what they did with Ohno. Well, he had to be dragged out of here kicking and screaming and so will I!" Sami ranted. He heard Renee's weary sigh through the phone, no doubt expressing frustration at both the latest bad hand he'd been dealt and the state he'd worked himself up into.

"It's just the way it works. Back when I first went on the road, sometimes I'd fly to Oregon or somewhere only to find I've nothing but a ninety-second interview scheduled. Maybe they do do it just to test us, but we're far from alone. It happens to everyone. You already know you're on the card for the TV tapings next week, and that's what counts, right?" in an instant, Renee's rationalising of the situation, and the calming, comforting tone in her sweet voice that told him how deeply invested she was, had Sami mellowing and remembering everything he had to be thankful for.

"You're right..." he sighed.

"...Damn, I wish you were here. There's a bar up the road with live music, looks just like our kind of place. Not getting to wrestle really wouldn't matter then. As long as I had my girl and my punk rock, I could still count today as a win."

"Beer and bands would be just awesome right now. Instead, I've got to lurk around the parking lot harassing anyone who happens to wander by for this fucking pre-show. Feels like I'm never out of impractical dresses and HD make-up at the moment. I warn you now, I'm going to celebrate being home by wearing only the baggiest T-shirts I own," Renee replied. Sami chuckled to himself.

"Fine by me. So long as the jeans are tight," he teased flirtatiously.

"Well, I get to see you in spandex on a weekly basis so I guess that's only fair..." Renee giggled in response.

"...Anyway, got to go. Love you."

"Love you too, my dear. Adios," Sami chirped, his good mood well-and-truly restored, until a few seconds later when it well-and-truly sunk in that he was faced with an evening alone in a strange town. Compared to sharing it with Renee, the appeal of doing just about any activity alone was now non-existent to him. He shook his head in disbelief. She'd got him good.

He wandered out of the catering area, away from the burble of excited chatter and into the relative silence of the hallway, contemplating an evening drinking alone, when suddenly he became aware of what sounded like soft laughter coming from an alcove just a few yards away. As he drew closer, he realised the noise was in fact quite the opposite. Someone was crying.

He craned his head gingerly around the corner, expecting to happen upon a stranger who would rather be left alone. What he saw instead made his heart sink. He'd had very little interaction with JoJo, but he knew she posed no ill will to anyone. Renee had become very fond of the diminutive young Californian during her time covering _Total Divas_, and he'd been impressed by the progress she had made in the ring during her short time in the business.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked tentatively. She looked up at him, make-up smeared, and appearing as if a good night's rest had eluded her for a fair while.

"Oh, it's nothing, I'm fine," she sniffed dismissively. Why did girls always say that when it evidently was not the case? He wasn't about to take it as a final answer, anyway.

"Come on, something's clearly upset you big-time, and I don't see anyone else doing anything to help," he said gently, kneeling down in front of where she was slumped against the wall.

"Summer..." JoJo began. Sami hissed through gritted teeth. JoJo said the name in the exact same tone Renee once had. That woman was pure poison.

"...I found out I wasn't booked tonight, and her and the other two... they just kept _laughing_, they said if I'd been here a year and I still wasn't doing back-to-back shows, then I probably wouldn't be kept around much longer. I told them to shut up and tried to ignore them, but they just wouldn't stop. They made fun of my clothes, my hair, my butt, my entrance, my wrestling... and no one stopped them. No one stands up to them in there anymore. Paige isn't here, Nattie's not either, they're just running riot. I guess I should just accept that I'm not cut out for this business, move aside and let someone less fucking sensitive have a spot."

"No..." Sami interjected sharply.

"...Then they've won. That's what they want; everyone to get out of their spotlight. They're attention junkies, and they don't want anyone around who threatens to steal their thunder. I'd consider it an honour that they're picking on you."

"What do you mean?" JoJo asked, wrinkling her nose cutely in bemusement.

"They see you as a threat. They know the truth," Sami answered.

"Which is?"

"That you're about the hottest prospect here. How old are you, 7? 8?"

"I'm 20!" JoJo giggled giving him a playful shove.

"Right, and you've been doing this, what, a year? Less? There's no way Summer or Sasha or Charlotte were doing the stuff I saw you doing last night a year into their training. You could be better than all of them in time and they know it. They want to frighten you away before you realise it for yourself," Sami stated. He wasn't just being kind. JoJo's display at the previous night's event had genuinely wowed him.

"You really mean that?" JoJo questioned hopefully, warming Sami's heart in the process.

"Absolutely. And don't let a stick-insect with an Oompa Loompa tan and the dress sense of a middle-of-the-market hooker tell you that you don't look good," Sami added with a grin. JoJo burst into a fit of infectious giggles.

"You can't say that!" she exclaimed.

"I just did. And I'd say it to her face if she was right here. In fact, maybe she is here and she's just facing sideways," he went on. More giggles.

"Renee said you were funny. She wasn't kidding," JoJo smiled admiringly

Then a thought crossed Sami's mind. She wasn't booked, neither was he. She needed some company, so did he. She laughed at his jokes. Not enough people did that.

"Say, I've got the night off too, I was thinking of hitting that bar up the road. Fancy joining?" he enquired.

"That punky place? Not really my thing," JoJo murmured bashfully, curling a strand of hair around her finger and staring at her feet.

"You never know until you've tried," Sami fired back.

"...Besides, provincial punk scenes are either surprisingly good or accidentally hilarious. At worst, you'll have a good chuckle."

"Sure, why not?" JoJo smiled finally, offering her hand so Sami could pull her to her feet.

"Awesome. You understand I can't in all good conscience buy you any drinks though. I'm letting you stay up past your bedtime, though, so that's enough of a treat," more giggles. She really liked to giggle.

* * *

"Damn, she's good," Sasha breathed as the BFFs looked on from the shadows at Sami and JoJo heading out into the night.

"Really, really good," Charlotte affirmed.

"Told you..." Summer said flatly.

"...Think about it, any time she spends with him, she's away from us. She can't help but be relieved. Plus she's grateful for the attention. For being treated like a grown-up for a change. But in reality, she's a stupid, scared, clingy little brat and so she'll never risk blowing her cover for fear of losing him and Renee as friends. It's perfect."

"You're a genius, Summer," Sasha enthused.

"Oh, Renee. Pale, dumpy, dumb, deluded Renee..." Summer mused to no one in particular.

"...You think you've got it all sewn up, don't you? You think you've finally found someone willing to settle for you. Imagine your surprise when he ups and leaves you for a fucking child! You think I made you feel worthless before, you just wait. You're gonna wish you never set foot in WWE."


	4. Chapter 4

**Took longer than expected but I've finally worked out how to move forward and introduce Dean Ambrose, so hopefully _this time _I'll be able to keep things moving a little quicker re: updates. We'll see. Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, favourited and followed so far :)**

**For reference, here is the Youtube link for Renee's interview with Paul Heyman that is quoted in the opening. It's the only form of character development she's been given on TV so I thought I may as well use it ;)**

** [slash]watch?v=_AoZZiqVeFA**

_'Tell me something, Renee; how is your relationship with your father nowadays? Is it better than it was before? Have you talked to the man in the past two years? Maybe you'd like to discuss in public why your uncle had to rip your prom date out of the limousine? It's a matter of public record, isn't it? Why did you and your fiancée break up two months ago in Los Angeles, Renee? It's not fun talking about your personal life on TV, is it?'_

The memory still made Renee tear up even now. Paul Heyman's smug, condescending voice laying bare some of the most painful and private details of her life for millions to hear. That day she learnt the hard way why they said never to trust anybody in this business. All it took was for sensitive information to find its way to some of the roster's more vindictive and unscrupulous members and all of a sudden the whole world knew your secrets, literally.

Since then Sami had been the only person within WWE who she'd allowed to glimpse the corridors of contradiction and self-doubt that lay beyond the TV-ready smile. He was the only one who exuded enough genuine compassion and warmth that she could guarantee he would never use any of it against her further down the road.

She'd thought her time away from him was almost up, but upon arriving at the arena for Smackdown a sizeable spanner was thrown in the works. Instead of heading back down to Florida tomorrow, she was instead to report to Stamford to film links for various upcoming DVDs and WWE Network programming. While she was immensely proud and honoured to have established herself as the go-to girl whenever something needed presenting or introducing, it was hard to look on the bright side when her already-limited time she had with the man she loved was being further restricted.

She dreaded Sami's reaction as much as anything else. His placid, affable demeanour went out of the window when it came to being denied the two most important things in his life. Part of her lived in constant fear that one day he would decide that, if he were to take his rightful place atop WWE, then the heartache of retaining a relationship in such circumstances was a distraction he could do without. She didn't know quite what she would do if that day came. She'd hardly made a good to job of surviving in this madhouse alone before he came along; things were bound to be ten times worse now she'd experienced the joys of having someone by her side through it all.

This was very much the typical dinner-time scene backstage; each table in catering taken up by a different clique while Renee herself sat in splendid isolation. It must be nice to belong, she thought, but the risks were too great. She wasn't making that mistake again. Still, it would be nice for someone to at least acknowledge her existence.

"Why so glum?"

Renee nearly jumped out of her seat. She'd been practically falling asleep and hadn't noticed that she had most unexpected company at her table. The Shield were simultaneously some her favourite and least favourite interviewees; always engaging and entertaining, but with an air of unhinged menace that meant it was impossible to ever truly relax and enjoy the time spent picking the brains of three of WWE's brightest young talents. Now, perhaps the most unstable and intimidating of the trio sat opposite her, an uncharacteristic look of polite enquiry on his face.

"Oh, hey Dean..." she murmured with trepidation.

"...Nothing much, just dreading the trip to Stamford tomorrow."

"Oh... more Network shit, right? What have they roped you in for this time; _The 20 Greatest Turnbuckle Pad Removals of All-Time_? _The Making of Smackdown Backstage Pass?_" Renee let out an involuntary giggle. This was just what she had needed; someone to make light of her predicament with. She just never thought Dean Ambrose would be the person to provide that.

"Yeah, something like that..." she replied with a smile.

"...How about you? Got a match tonight?"

"Seth's got Orton, so me and Roman will be playing cheerleader..." Dean said.

"...I might ask the Funkadactyls if we can borrow their pom-poms, whaddaya think?"

Renee let out another more prolonged and less inhibited laugh. Where was _this_ Dean Ambrose when the cameras were rolling?

"I guess that answers something I've always wondered to myself," she grinned.

"And what's that?" Dean queried.

"Who the 'funny one' in the Shield is," Renee answered. Shared laughter. It was one of her favourite things in the world, and all too rare during her jaunts with the main roster.

"Oh, I've got jokes for days, darling..." Dean went on.

"...Most of them dirty, admittedly."

"Well, I am partial to a good innuendo," Renee fired back.

"OK then; stop me if you've heard this one..." Dean began with relish.

"Renee, there you are! We've been waiting for you for fifteen minutes..." an irate, Texan voice interrupted Renee's pleasant little distraction. She gave the heavy, full-bodied sigh of reality biting hard. She knew she must have forgotten something. She never had this much time to herself unless one of her many commitments had slipped her mind. She was supposed to be filming material for the _JBL and Cole Show _at this very minute.

"Come on, everyone's ready apart from you," JBL continued in an anxious bluster. Renee reluctantly got to her feet. Initially, her repartee with her broadcast colleague on the webshow had come from a genuine friendship, but landing the General Manager's role at NXT had further swollen his already sizeable ego. She wasn't his equal anymore and he never passed on an opportunity to make her aware of it. The fact that her boyfriend had been among the biggest bees in his bonnet during his time in office no doubt made him all the more eager to lorde his authority over her.

"Were there no mirrors in your hotel room? Did you let one of those Make a Wish kids do your hair? You look godawful," he spat, surveying her. Renee bowed her head and bit her tongue. There was no use retorting. This man never lost an argument; yelling relentlessly until the other person gave up was a frustratingly effective tactic.

"You'll need at least 15 minutes in the make-up chair before you look even halfway presentable..." JBL sighed.

"...Do you know how busy I am? It's fine for you, you've got the easiest job there is around here; just be blonde and pretty... _ish._"

"So tell me, Mr Layfield; what is that you do that's so laborious and time-consuming?" Renee couldn't hide her relief and amusement as her new friend sized up to JBL, abandoning the genial tone he'd been using for their little chat in favour of the off-kilter swagger he was better known for.

"Well, I'm the voice of Raw _and _Smackdown and the General Manager of NXT," the older man replied in a tone that was 100% self-importance and 0% self-awareness.

"Right, and how many NXT tapings do you attend per month? Must average out at around 0.5," Dean asserted.

"Hey, it's difficult to find time to..." JBL began to protest.

"Difficult to find time to sit on the beach in Bermuda counting your money?" Dean finished with a sneer.

"...This lady right here is at every Raw, Smackdown _and _NXT, and has a far more demanding job than spouting the same soundbites on loop."

Renee stifled a belly laugh. She wished she had the guts to take a picture of JBL's face at this moment.

"So I suggest you treat her with a little more respect, John Boy," Dean concluded, his nose mere inches from JBL's, his face twitching and contorting as it tended to do whenever he was riled up. Now Renee understood the method to the Ambrose madness; why act normal when being deranged got you results?

"Come on, Renee, let's get going," JBL implored hastily, turning away from Dean as if he couldn't do it soon enough. As she passed by Dean, Renee mouthed 'thank you' and beamed widely, with Dean miming 'any time' in response. Perhaps there were other people worth trusting in this circus after all.

Dean licked his lips. That could not have gone any better. He could be 'normal' when he wanted to, and that allowed him to have all the more twisted fun. And nothing awakened his thirst for depravity and manipulation than the so-called 'fairer' sex. He couldn't pinpoint when exactly it happened, he'd had two many failed attempts at playing the gentleman in his early adulthood for it to be even remotely possible, but the idea of a healthy, mutually gratifying romantic relationship held no appeal to him whatsoever. Women existed to be used, to be controlled, to be possessed. Any attempt to treat them as equals had brought him nothing but undeserved sorrow.

Since he and his Shield cohorts arrived in WWE, he'd been running the rule of the Divas locker room; their physiques, their personalities, their fears and insecurities, with view to finding the ideal target. Someone he could play like a puppet; using the charm he'd retained from his more well-intentioned days to endear himself to them, gradually isolating them from all other sources of support, twisting the knife ever so gently until before they knew it, they were at his mercy. They couldn't live without him and he could do whatever he liked with them, or to them.

There were some girls in that locker room whom it would be pitifully easy to lead astray. That held no interest to him. He needed a challenge; someone with intelligence and stability, yet enough drama and hang-ups going on behind the scenes to prey upon, to gradually dismantle their veneer of self-assurance.

In the past week he'd come to the conclusion that Renee Young was just perfect for this little plan. For all she seemed to have turned a corner since her early days, he knew how easily she could be made to revert to the anxious, hesitant little misanthrope she had been before Sami came on the scene. Not to mention he couldn't look at her without the filthiest, most animalistic and arousing fantasies his mind could conjure coursing around his brain. But he _knew _it would all be his in due course.

She was a loner, she'd had an engagement blow up in her face, she'd had a troubled childhood, she'd been put through the wringer by the WWE's resident 'mean girls'. She was a ticking timebomb, a meltdown waiting to happen, and he'd see to it that when the inevitable occurred he'd be there to pick up the pieces. But he had no intention of putting them back together.


	5. Chapter 5

_'See, told you it rains in Vegas. Look!'_

_'Mind=blown'_

_'A lot of grumbling tourists who only packed short sleeves passing by my window'_

_'Well, Tampa remains as stiflingly humid as ever. Don't think I'm ever gonna quite learn to live with it'_

_'Is someone regretting leaving New York?'_

_'Suffice to say I really must love Sami to stay here. He hates it too. The second he gets called up we're on the first plane back northward. I'm sure I read the life expectancy of a Canadian in Florida is 2-4 years.' _

_'Well, the desert suits me more than Cincinnati ever did. I just like dead things, y'know?'_

_'For a second there I forgot I was talking to Dean Ambrose'_

Renee grinned into her phone. It had been just eight days since her and Dean's unexpected banter session in catering, and they'd been near-inseparable backstage at this week's Raw and Smackdown. She never would have guessed it, but ultimately they'd been looking for the same thing. A casual, purely platonic, non-judgemental, agenda-free, trustworthy companion to wile away the lonely road hours with.

She got the feeling the Shield's conversations were very much all-business, particularly of late, and it was imperative to the preservation of Dean's sanity that he spent some time in the company of someone with no direct stake in their war with the Authority. Someone whose very job was to remain impartial and unbiased. It calmed him to be in her presence, she could tell. She was much more relaxed too; no longer did she regard time away from Sami with quite so much dread.

Even her fears of the jealousy this new-found friendship may spark in her boyfriend had proved to be unnecessary. Sami and Dean's paths had crossed numerous times on the independent circuit; while not friends as such, they knew each other rather well and carried a healthy professional respect for one another. This further reassured Renee that she was indeed in safe hands.

Dean was a man of conquest; keeping alive the mythos of the touring entertainer by finding his way into the bed of a different girl in almost every town. Renee could be fairly sure there was no ulterior motive when it came to his interactions with her.

'Why waste your time on a chick with baggage when there's so many free, easy and loose ones to choose from?' he'd somewhat crudely quipped during a recent conversation. Conservative and somewhat sentimental as Renee was, she couldn't help but feel he'd just not found the right person.

She'd just arrived at the NXT tapings, where she would finally be reunited with her own Mr Right. Though her road-sickness may have been remedied somewhat, it didn't make her any less overjoyed to be back in at Sami's side come Wednesday night. It was like falling in love all over again. Right on cue, there were those sturdy arms knotting around her waist from behind. Those soft, skilled lips at the nape of her neck. _Why _couldn't her flight have gotten in a little earlier? An hour at home getting 'reacquainted' would be the perfect warm-up for the show.

"If that's anyone other than my boyfriend; my elbow has a date with your nuts," Renee joked, before spinning round to meet that infinitely charming smile, those soulful, piercing brown eyes, that stylishly-unkempt beard, his chiselled arms and torso clearly visible beneath his T-shirt. Surely people would understand if she jumped his bones right here in the corridor?

"You know, one of the first times you interviewed me you were wearing this dress..." Sami said with a fond grin of remembrance.

"...I've never had more trouble maintaining eye contact."

Sami's grin grew yet wider as Renee inevitably began to blush. How did someone this beautiful become so modest? She ticked every conceivable box for him; shimmering golden hair, hypnotic hazel eyes, the cutest nose in recorded history... and that was just the beginning. Not caring who may be watching, he gripped her at the waist and leaned in for a deep, shamelessly lustful kiss as both let their hands embark on a decidedly thorough explanation of one another.

The fact that this woman had been mocked into harbouring some fairly severe image issues represented everything that was wrong with the world in Sami's eyes. Much like the mind that inhabited it, Renee's body was natural, formidable and beautiful. Every curve held a unique power over him. It was to his pronounced disappointment when she finally backed away from his clutches and began to compose herself.

"I'm afraid that'll have to be it for now..." she sighed, before adding quietly and mischievously:

"...any further and I'd start to regret not bringing a change of underwear."

"Change of underwear?" a third voice suddenly chirped out of nowhere. Emma had no concept of a 'private' conversation. Sami and Renee wheeled round in surprise to find the Australian Diva producing what appeared to be an 'Emmalution'-branded pair of knickers from her gym bag.

"...may I interest you in some of these? I just had a load made. Aren't they great?"

Sami stifled a giggle as Renee looked utterly baffled and dismayed.

"That's... quite something," Renee murmured aghast.

"You seem to be dancing on the spot even more gleefully than normal this evening, Emma..." Sami smirked, still sounding as if he was staving off laughter in the name of politeness.

"...had a good day?"

"Have you not heard?" Emma asked rhetorically, seemingly rather offended that Sami and Renee did not know exactly what had put her in such a positive mood.

"...I bumped into Hunter and Stephanie in the lobby. They're talking to people about doing the tour of Australia and New Zealand next month, and guess who was the first name on the list? The Emmalution is coming home!"

Her self-promotion over, Emma danced away down the hall without a second glance back at the Canadian couple.

"You know, if we were to strip naked and start feverishly rutting right here, we'd still only be about the sixth and seventh biggest freaks in the building," Renee mused.

* * *

"Just how... _fucking useless _can you be?!" Summer thundered. Charlotte and Sasha looked away forlornly, each daring the other to be the first to try and plead their case to their enraged leader following this latest loss.

"I told you we needed you out there," Sasha offered meekly, wincing as if bracing for impact.

"I thought you two deserved a chance to shine on your own, to show me how beautifully fierce you've become since I took you on. Because I'm nice like that, I share my spotlight. And _this _is how you repay me?! Have you won one single _FUCKING MATCH_ since I stopped going out there with you?!" the tirade continued, as Summer caught sight of the rest of the Divas locker room snickering away as they listened in through a crack in the door.

"What are _YOU _all gawking at?!" she roared, as Charlotte and Sasha breathed a sigh of relief at Summer's furore being temporarily redirected away from themselves.

"...When you've been in a movie, when you've been a ratings smash on the E! Network, maybe _then_ you can... hey, Stephanie!"

Summer's tone changed from anger to one of painfully-forced cheeriness as she spotted the Billion Dollar Princess sauntering directly toward them.

"Summer..." Stephanie replied with studied corporate nonchalance.

"...Just the woman I was looking for. Hunter and I have a little proposal for you. Would you mind joining me in my office?"

"Absolutely. Lead the way!" Summer beamed, maintaining the sycophantic timbre that always seemed to get her just what she wanted from the powers that be.

"Don't think I'm anywhere near done with you two," she hissed to Sasha and Charlotte under her breath as she passed by them.

For now, however, she had bigger fish to fry. Yet another golden opportunity appeared to be about to present itself. A _Maxim_ shoot, perhaps? Maybe her own reality spin-off. Oh, it was almost tragic how she'd already made more of an impact in a year on the main roster than some of her _Total Divas _co-stars had in half a decade. No one wanted to see a charisma vortex like Natalya in films. Magazine editors didn't want to waste their time airbrushing out Nikki Bella's surgery scars. Not when they had the perfect synergy of personality and sex appeal at their disposal. Some might say she was being arrogant, but if it wasn't true then why did she keep winning?

"Have a seat," Stephanie said matter-of-factly as they arrived at the Authority's headquarters for the evening.

Summer perched coquettishly on the edge of the chair, flashing her pearly whites at Triple H, who stood impassively in the corner of the room. She primped her hair, making sure to 'accidentally' catch her thumbs in the straps of her dress on their way back down to her lap, thus exposing the maximum amount of cleavage. The COO's wife may have been sat right next to him, but in her experience it made little difference. Men just couldn't help themselves when it came down to it.

"OK; as you probably know, we'll be heading out to Australia and New Zealand next month for a live tour. There won't be any TV recorded out there, but every show will be taped and released on DVD and Blu-ray for the Australasian market..." Stephanie began.

"...Now obviously, our broadcast personnel will be remaining in the US for Raw and Smackdown, so we'll need somebody to be the... 'front' for the whole project; do local press, present the DVD, a little tour diary visiting sites and all that jazz. And we thought you'd be perfect for the job. We love you on _Total Divas_, you're great with the media, you're clearly interested in exploring avenues beyond wrestling... You're everything we want the Diva brand to represent. So, what do you say?"

Summer tried to maintain her chipper body language, but in reality her heart was beginning to pound in frustration. She hadn't enjoyed her first trip Down Under the previous year, and with her plan to bring down Renee bound to be in full swing by the time the tour rolled around, it was about the worst possible moment to be on the other side of the world. Sasha and Charlotte had just displayed their complete inability to accomplish anything without her being there to hold their hand, not to mention they didn't have half of the hold upon JoJo that she did. She'd faced this problem time and again in her life. Everyone needed her and there just wasn't enough Summer Rae to go round. Then she had a brainwave.

"Sorry. I mean, it's an honour, it really, really is, but I think my focus right now should be on competing. I've taken my eye of the ball recently with the movie and the reality show, and look what happened... Paige of all people is Divas champion. That's not what's best for business, is it?" she explained, knowing just what buttons to push to get the WWE's resident power couple nodding in agreement.

"Be that as it may, we need someone we can rely on to represent our Divas and our company as a whole, and if you're turning down offers like this, we may just decide that person just isn't you," Stephanie cautioned. Summer grimaced. She hadn't thought of it that way. She should have known better than to play mind games with Stephanie McMahon. But it was a risk she just had to take. It was in this moment that Summer realised, to more than a little shock, that bringing an end to Renee's resurgence was now her number 1 priority.

"How about Renee?" she blurted abruptly.

"Renee's the presenter round here, right? She's really, really good at it, way better than I would be, and she loves exploring the world. I bet she'd welcome the opportunity."

Summer repressed a shudder. She just complemented Renee Young. These really were desperate times.

"I'm sure she'd do just great, but like I say, we need all our regular broadcasters here for TV..." Stephanie began, but she was cut off by the husky, ponderous tones of her husband.

"Wait a minute, Steph..." Hunter interjected, resting his palms on the table that lay between the two women.

"...There's something that's been concerning me about Renee recently. She's been getting a little close to certain... _undesirable_ characters."

Summer's face lit up, before she remembered herself and adopted an expression of trepidation. She hadn't realised quite how useful Renee's unlikely bond with one Dean Ambrose could be in straightening this unexpected kink in her plan. But she didn't get where she was today without thinking on her feet.

"That's right. Her and Ambrose can't get enough of each other..." she agreed eagerly.

"...I mean, I like Renee, but she can be rather naïve. He might use her for inside information. It's a liability having someone like that on the broadcast team. I mean, Cole and Lawler are bad enough, right? But an actual mole for the Shield running around backstage, poking her nose and her microphone in places where it doesn't belong. Surely that's the last thing you want?"

"You know something, Summer. You're a lot smarter than you look," Hunter said smugly.

"Paul!" Stephanie gently scolded.

"He's right though; you're a very bright young lady. I like the way you think. We could have plenty of use for you. The Authority could really do with a representative in the Divas division. There's been far too many... _niche_ performers carrying the title in the last year or so. It's about time the belt was back on somebody with cross-demographic appeal."

"Exactly right..." Hunter affirmed.

"...come next month, Renee and those mangy dogs will be on the plane to Australia where they can do no harm, and you, Summer Rae, will be on the road to the Divas title."

"Welcome to the team," Stephanie declared, finally letting her stoic expression give way to a smile of relish and enthusiasm as she shook Summer by the hand.

Summer's frustration had turned to jubilation. She would have kissed herself square on the lips if it were possible. She had a feeling she may have just sealed the deal that would see all of her dreams and carefully-lain plans come to fruition.

A year from now, maybe even less, she'd be Divas champion, the undisputed female face of the WWE, while Renee was consigned both professionally and romantically to the scrapheap, the clock having long struck midnight on her pathetic little Cinderella story.

If only Renee had known her place, if only she'd been content to be just another girl trembling in the wake of Summer and all the other true Divas, all the other winners in life. But no, she had to garner unwarranted and undeserved confidence and stand up to her. Confidence was a precious commodity monopolised by the fortunate few. It was wasted on the likes of Renee. Summer was merely redressing the balance, re-establishing the natural order of the world. She was put on this Earth to win, Renee was put on this Earth to lose. It could not be any other way.


	6. Chapter 6

"Oh... hey Summer... you're not still mad at us for Wednesday, are you?" Sasha's voice trembled with apprehension through the phone.

"Even if you are, it shouldn't be me you're mad at. Charlotte was the one who got pinned."

"Hey!" a second voice interjected indignantly. Summer was sat in her hotel room following the conclusion of a live event in Tacoma, while her lieutenants had just completed an NXT house show back in Florida, and as was customary she was checking in on how they had fared.

Normally, Summer would leave them to dangle a while before letting them off the hook, see how many glowing complements the younger women would pay her in desperate hope of regaining her favour, but tonight she needed to cut to the chase.

Since making her pact with the Authority things had progressed rather rapidly, and a plan had been put in place that could well see her in possession of the Divas title in a matter of days. With new friends in such high places, she'd considered kicking her so-called BFFs into touch. She was well on her way now, NXT was but a footnote in her rise to the very top, it was beneath her to continue to associate with such inferior talent, who had failed to rise to her level despite her providing them with every opportunity to. They were still nothing but dumb muscle; but as it turned out, that was just what she needed to execute Hunter and Stephanie's plan.

"So, how did it go tonight?" Summer asked, now more out of duty than actual interest.

"You'd be proud of us..." Charlotte proclaimed enthusiastically

"...Well, I lost the match, but y'know, by rollup, so it hardly counts. Anyway... so, we were screwing around with that little pipsqueak Alexa Bliss. You know the one; about three feet tall, head too big for her body, basically a living Bratz doll."

"Haha, good one!" Sasha chimed in before picking up the story, as Summer's patience began to wear thin.

"...Well, you now how she thinks she's some sort of fairy or whatever? Comes out in that stupid tutu blowing glitter everywhere like a fucking five-year-old? Well, Charlotte stole her jar of 'pixie dust' that she uses in her entrance, and it gets to the time of her match and she's racing around the locker room looking for it, I'm playing dumb of course. She goes out the door where Charlotte's waiting and BAM! Face full of glitter."

Summer rolled her eyes as the phone speaker crackled with puerile, hysterical laughter.

"Charlotte's laughing so much she drops the jar, glitter everywhere. Alexa goes bright red, bursts into tears, storms out, and by the time she gets cleaned up, they've cut her match. This is in front of all the other girls by the way; they won't wanna mess with us and she won't wanna show her face in there ever again."

The sound of a triumphant high-five almost coincided with Summer's own palm striking her forehead. Here she was plotting her course to superstardom and they were still content playing sophomoric pranks on hapless rookies in the broom cupboard of an armoury, clearly placing way more stock in maintaining their status as locker room tormentors than arresting the decline of their in-ring fortunes. She'd outgrown them completely. Would they even be able to carry out this most basic task? She'd literally kill them if they blew this opportunity for her.

* * *

"Remind me to kick Jack Swagger's ass next time he shows up in Florida," Sami murmured darkly.

"Jack... Swagger... dead. OK, noted," JoJo smirked, pretending to take a memo on her phone.

It had been a month since Sami came to her aid in Gainesville, and something of a big brother-little sister dynamic had begun to develop between the two. The bullies had stayed away from her, and Sami was now a much more relaxed and affable figure at house shows. It was impossible not to be when JoJo was around. There was such an exuberance and optimism to her; the drudgery of adult life yet to make its mark upon her innocent and ambitious mind. She was inquisitive, polite and modest. A sweet kid, as Renee had always said.

This evening, she was keeping him company as they watched Raw unfold. It was immensely frustrating for Sami both to not be part of the show when so many less deserving and less talented performers were, and to know that anything could happen to Renee before his very eyes and he would be in no better position to intervene than any of the millions of others tuning in around the world. Seeing the derision and aggression with which she was treated by certain interviewees always had his blood boiling. He had a list as long as his arm of people he couldn't wait to make pay for their insolence toward her when he finally made the step up.

"_The following contest is set for one fall, and is for the WWE Divas championship!_"

"Oh, here we go!" JoJo cheered eagerly, bouncing up and down in her seat. Instantly the boiling of blood in Sami's veins turned to a simmer. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and would only serve her well as she continued to learn and develop. She was constantly firing off questions at him about every conceivable aspect of a business she was still getting to grips with, and Sami was only to happy to answer them.

"Who are you rooting for?" Sami enquired.

"Well, Naomi's a great athlete, and she was always really cool with me when we were filming the show..." JoJo began ponderously.

"...but Paige is just so all-round fucking awesome. It's a tough one."

"Well, my hands are tied..." replied Sami.

"...If it wasn't for Paige and her PhD in arm-twisting, I never would have had the guts to ask Renee out last Halloween."

"Oh my God, really? Aww!" JoJo cooed indulgently, knowing just what to do to make her companion blush slightly.

"Where did you go?"

"The ice rink downtown..." Sami smiled in remembrance, before adding somewhat bitterly.

"...Things were so much simpler back then."

Renee's revelation that she would be heading Down Under for a ten days imminently had led to quite the falling out between the couple, perhaps the worst yet. Sami blamed himself entirely for the conflagration; he accepted it was somewhat hypocritical to fume at such a development when a spot on a main roster tour would be the best news imaginable to he himself.

Nevertheless, it was impossible not to be dejected by the prospect of their longest ever period of time apart since their relationship had begun, and relations were strained between them as a result; too amicable to complain, but too terse to relax. In many ways it was worse than being officially at war.

"Hey, come on, it'll be fine..." JoJo said softly, reaching over and softly rubbing his shoulder.

"...Trust me, you're meant to be. You only need to watch the two of you together for five minutes to tell. If any couple can battle through all this bullshit it's you guys."

"Thanks, sweetheart..." Sami replied, clasping her outstretched hand with his and smiling with genuine and immense gratitude.

"...I hope you're right."

Suddenly the entrance music of the woman who had caused all the trouble blared through the television speakers.

"Stephanie?" JoJo questioned in annoyance.

"I guess she specialises in last minute changes of plan," Sami mused sardonically.

"_I regret to inform you that Naomi has suffered a little... accident backstage, and will not be able to challenge for the Divas championship this evening. However, you people were promised a title match, and as ever I am a woman of my word. So Paige, stay right where you are while I bring out your new opponent..."_

"Ooh, who's it gonna be? What if it's AJ coming back? Or what if... oh, fuck," JoJo's giddy speculation turned to a groan of despair, echoed by Sami as Summer Rae strutted out onto the stage.

"What's _she_ done to deserve a title shot?" JoJo questioned exasperatedly.

"She hasn't wrestled for the last month. She's been too busy playing movie star."

"I think you just answered your own question," Sami sighed.

"There are three ways to get opportunities in this company; brown-nosing and mainstream publicity are first and second, and paying your dues in the ring is a very, _very_ distant third."

Sami returned his gaze to the television. What occurred next appalled but in no way surprised him.

"_Well, I guess Summer Rae will now be challenging... wait a minute!"_

"_What the hell? Where did they come from?"_

"_That's Charlotte and Sasha Banks, Summer Rae's allies from NXT. They call themselves the Beautiful Fierce Females, the BFFs, and they're laying waste to the Divas champion. Somebody has to stop this!"_

"_The bell hasn't rung, Michael, it's perfectly legal. It's called opportunism."_

"_John, you can't possibly condone this. Paige has been blindsided by these two. And now we're gonna have a match?"_

"_They certainly seem proud of themselves."_

"_Charlotte's the daughter of the Nature Boy, Ric Flair. Playing dirty is a family tradition. I love it!"_

"_The bell's just sounded, I guess this match has officially started. How's Paige supposed to defend herself? How's she supposed to defend her title?"_

"_She can't, King. And Summer Rae with a kick right to the head! Into the cover... and we have a new champion. This is a huge injustice!"_

"_This is how you make your mark on Raw, Michael. Naomi couldn't compete, these girls show up out of the blue and attack Paige, and Summer took advantage. Congratulations, Summer Rae, our new Divas champion!"_

"_And that's the other thing that's wrong with this picture. Naomi had an 'accident'? Give me a break!"_

"_Accidents happen, Michael. I hope you're not insinuating what I think you're insinuating."_

"Those cheating bitches, I... I just can't," JoJo sighed in frustration.

"Well, on the plus side I guess that means we won't have to put up with them down at NXT quite so often," Sami offered as a rather lame means of consolation. He was equally disgusted. Summer had victimised and demoralised some of the sweetest, most good-hearted people he had met during his time in WWE, and this was her reward. It was no wonder so many people in this company gave up 'fighting the good fight' in the pursuit of success. It only made his desire to set a good example even stronger; to do everything in his power to make sure JoJo was never corrupted like that.

* * *

"Pathetic," Natalya snapped as the Divas clustered around the backstage monitor watching the new champion celebrate in the ring.

"Smart," Aksana countered.

"Underhanded," Brie spat.

"Ingenious," Alicia smiled.

"Fucked up," Nikki growled.

"Fantastic," Eva crowed.

"What do you think, Renee?" asked Brie.

"I think I don't want to be here when they get back through that curtain," Renee muttered fretfully, more to herself than to the assembled women, as she scurried across the Gorilla position. She knew what she may be asked to do if she stuck around. Well, this was one scoop she was not eager to get. Josh or Byron were welcome to it.

It was as if the last seven months had not happened. All of a sudden she was terrified of standing face to face with Summer Rae again. When things could not have been better between her and Sami, and Summer's pitiful fawning over Fandango (who blatantly could not care less which specific beautiful woman he had on his arm) was about to blow up in her face, it was easy to shrug off the sneering barbs.

Now, however, she'd just endured of the worst week in her and Sami's relationship so far. To make matters worse, she knew she would not even have time to see him again and fully diffuse the tensions that still ran pretty high from the ferocious argument that occurred when they were last in each other's presence. Instead, she was boarding a plane taking her further away from him than she'd ever been before; leaving the resentment to fester, leaving their love in limbo.

Summer, meanwhile, had just seen all her dreams come true. In the long run, Summer's superficial, backstabbing ways had not come back to bite her in the behind at all. They had taken her to the pinnacle of her profession and beyond. She would be at her gloating, condescending, egomaniacal worst just as Renee's defences were well and truly down.

"Renee..." the stage manager's voice froze her in her tracks. She knew what was about to happen. She was too consumed with weariness and dread to even argue. She held out her hand and let him march her back across Gorilla to the interviewing area, where Summer waited; a triumphant grin permanently affixed the her face, title slung over her shoulder and glistening under the spotlighting.

When she realised who would be conducting her first interview as champion, the grin grew even wider.

"OK, Renee, we're live in 3... 2... 1..."

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time..." Renee swallowed hard, the words did not want to leave her lips.

"...the new WWE Divas champion, Summer Rae."

"Oh hello, Renee! Ah, I remember when you first interviewed me for NXT. Who'd have thought back then, that in two years time... they still wouldn't have found someone better than you to do this job?"

That was it. Journalistic integrity and unbias were about to go clean out of the window.

"Summer, how does it feel to have stolen the Divas championship? Will you be giving Paige or Naomi a shot when they recover from the beatings your gormless galpals put on them? How about..."

"Renee, that's enough!" Renee only had a second to savour the flaring of Summer's nostrils and the disappearance of the smirk from her face before Stephanie waded in, aiming a dagger-eyed glare at Renee.

"If you're not going to do your job right and ask objective, reasonable questions then I guess we'll have to find somebody who will," she said sternly.

Renee murmured a half-hearted apology under her breath. Summer sized Renee up, determined to make the most of her favour from on high.

"It's alright, Stephanie. I get it all the time. Plain, mousy, insignificant little women who are envious of my success in life. For the record, _Renee_, I had nothing to do with what happened to Naomi, and I had no idea Sasha and Charlotte were even here tonight. I was just taking advantage of the situation I was presented with. Aww, I know you're disappointed. It was a nice little delusion, wasn't it? That a pasty, greasy, tryhard little oddball could make it. Gives all you freaks and geeks false hope that you can amount to something in life. Newsflash, you can't. This is how it's supposed to be. A girl like me, on top. An aspirational figure, a leader, a goddess. Now that's what's best for business."

After a warm, congratulatory handshake with Stephanie, Summer trotted away. However, it was evident that Renee's dressing down was not yet complete. Stephanie's face softened as she prepared to put on the painfully transparent front of the warm, benevolent boss. Her feigned words of comfort always contained some of her most cutting putdowns.

"Renee, I know things haven't been going too well lately with you and your boyfriend. I know you may be dreading the possibility of letting _another_ man slip through your fingers so soon after the last, but that's no excuse to resent someone else's happiness. Jealousy is an ugly emotion. Yes, you'll never be in movies and on magazine covers, but you'll be there to ask the important questions of the people who are. That's still something. Yes, you're not some sexy, statuesque Diva, but you're pretty damn cute. Focus on what you are, not what you're not. That's a good girl."

Stephanie patted Renee as if she were some obedient puppy and strode out of the interview area. The director yelled 'cut', confirming Renee's worst fears; that she had just been subject to a very personal kind of humiliation on television once again. She didn't feel the tears coming; it was like a sudden cloudburst, an abrupt flash of realisation of just how wrong everything had begun to go. The result of her hitting the exact point at which she could not put a brave face on things.

She thought she'd progressed beyond being susceptible to this; the cocktail of loneliness and insecurity that once held permanent residence inside her head. Was a falling out with Sami all it took to send her back to that place? Was her resolve really that paper-thin? She saw how it could all swiftly unravel; how Summer's rise could coincide with her fall. She needed Sami here. She needed him to tell her it would all be alright; that their recent hostilities meant nothing in the long run and he was as fighting her corner as fervently as ever. But instead, she'd soon be willingly transporting herself tens of thousands of miles away from him, and refusing to do so would further sour her reputation with management.

It had been a long time since she'd cried in public; those around seemed more shocked than concerned, and none seemed in a rush to offer any consolation. The crew members hurried away to their next appointment, the Divas shot furtive glances her way when they thought she wasn't looking and babbled speculatively to themselves as they filed out in the direction of the locker room. She'd brought this upon herself. She'd cut herself off so absolutely after her last televised humiliation that there was no one here to comfort her this time around.

She shut her eyes and buried them in the palms of her hands. Not this place. Not this miserable, hopeless, godforsaken corner of her mind she'd been imprisoned in six months ago. She'd fought her way out of there. She'd done nothing to merit being sent back there. At first she didn't notice the arms extending around her, manoeuvring her into his chest. She didn't have time to look at his face before she was completely submerged.

"It's OK, darling, it's all gonna be OK," Dean crooned softly in her ear. He didn't have to do this, Renee told herself. He barely knew her in the grand scheme of things, he shouldn't have had to deal with her pathetic fits of anxiety. He had bigger things to worry about. But she thanked heaven he was here.

"What did I do wrong, Dean? Is it too much to ask to do my job without being mocked, or jeopardising my relationship? How the hell do I get on that plane tomorrow after that? I need to be at home. I need Sami. But does he need me? I don't... I can't," her worries compounded and contorted until she could no longer verbalise them and more sobs, this time more desperate and frantic than ever overtook her. She tried to rid her mind of all awareness of her surroundings aside from the mass of hard muscle against which she was braced, and the arms calmly holding onto her trembling body. Dean was the only thing saving her from a complete and total breakdown, and he'd be the only way she could survive the next ten days.

"I'll be there, Renee. We'll be in it together. We can get drunk every night if you want. Whatever it takes to get you through, we'll do it. No one's gonna give you any trouble, cos I'll fucking kill them. Alright?" Dean dictated. All Renee could do was breath 'thank you,' before the urge to bury her face once again and shed the remainder of her tears became too great to ignore.

Dean was trying his best to hide just how turned on he was becoming. Fear looked so sexy on Renee. Those tears; he'd drink a cupful of them if he could. Those glorious, aching sobs; he could listen to them all day. Knowing that he was the one she was depending on to make it all stop, her only friend in this cruel world she was blatantly unable to survive in alone; God it made him feel alive. And for the next ten days he'd have her all to himself. He vowed that by the time they returned from Australia, there would not be a single stone left unturned by him inside Renee's head.

He'd unlock all of her mysteries, expose all of her weaknesses, all under the pretence of learning how better to put her at ease. By the time he used all this information to do quite the opposite, she'd be too deeply under his spell to break free. Sami wouldn't want a thing to do with the mess he was going to make her into.


	7. Chapter 7

**Just a transitional chapter before everything really kicks off in the next few that follow. The stuff in italics is all internal monologue. Thanks as ever to everyone who's reviewed, followed and favourited so far :)**

_'I don't want to get up, I don't even want to roll over. I just want to look at it glistening in the morning sun, reflecting on the half-drunk bottle of champagne with which I toasted my victory. I understand now just why AJ was so protective and almost mothering toward this belt. It's way more than the sum of its parts. It's formalised what I already knew but is now undeniable; Summer Rae is on top of the mountain, and I like the view far too much to come down any time soon.'_

"Morning, champ," it was only at the sound of the dulcet tones over her shoulder that Summer remembered the other prize she'd claimed the previous evening. Randy Orton had wanted her badly, it was obvious from the second she'd walked into the Authority's office that evening, causing his eyes to bulge and his mouth to gape and almost salivate. His rather unsubtle innuendo-laden quips toward her as the ruling faction discussed strategy for the evening eliminated any remaining doubt. She thought it was quite beautiful really; two perfect physical specimens, two winners in life, two champions (whether they currently had gold around their waist or not), engaging in some wild, celebratory, no-strings attached sex.

She rolled over and glided her hand across his bearded face, chuckling satisfactorily to herself. This entire scene was straight out of the most fanciful of aspirations she'd harboured when she first arrived in WWE three years prior.

"I'm just waiting for it all to sink in," she murmured in gleeful disbelief.

"There's something else I'd like to be sinking into right about now," he fired back instantly with a filthy, smouldering grin that had her insides pulsating with lust.

"So you don't think we've quite diffused all the tension between us yet?" Summer asked, her arm drifting down his muscular back as she moved in closer.

"Not yet..." Randy smirked, lowering the bedclothes from around them and giving a look of absolute relish and approval as her naked form was revealed to him, swelling Summer's ego yet further.

"...yup, definitely still plenty left to relieve myself of," he added, pulling her atop of him.

_'Movie star. Reality TV star. Divas champion at the expense of my oldest rival in the business. About to orchestrate the destruction of the chief irritation in my life... that's you, Renee. Currently being fucked for the second time in 12 hours by one of the most handsome and successful men in WWE. Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, Summer Rae!'_

* * *

To commemorate their six month anniversary, Renee had bought Sami a digital photo frame loaded with a montage documenting the highlights of their relationship thus far. Sami wasn't one for archiving his life in pictures, but upon looking through this collection he was thankful that Renee very much was. This simple gift was the perfect summation of what a wonderful, fairytale start to their relationship they'd had.

_'Had'_ being the operative word, for it really had been all downhill from there. Now the pictures only served to remind Sami just how more blissful and straightforward things used to be. Before the days apart on the road had worn them down, before the arguments and the lingering resentment that never quite cleared due to them having so little concentrated time together to work through it.

He still loved her, of course he did, but he didn't know how much more he could take of this constant aching, a pain that was more acute than ever at this moment, the first of fifteen straight days when she would be far, far away. Maybe not having her at all was better than being tormented with these fleeting moments of happiness.

_'Don't be ridiculous' _he told himself, rising from the bed and shaking his head vigorously.

_'You're made for her. There's a reason you're still together in spite of it all. Snap out of it and be grateful for what you've got, you angsty little prick,' _he was always his own harshest critic.

He wandered along the hall, and only then was he reminded that for this morning at least, he wouldn't be consigned to starting the day alone. He and JoJo had ranted away into the small hours following the events of Raw, and having kept her out so late and with a spare room handy it seemed rude not to ask her to spend the night, to which she'd enthusiastically agreed. Nothing wrong with a friend staying over in a separate bed, after all.

_..._Or so he thought, until he made his way into the guest room to check if JoJo had arisen yet. There she was, curled up and deep in slumber. Did she have to look so cute when she was sleeping? Did she have to sleep in her underwear? Why couldn't he take his eyes off her?

Well, she was here. She was always here; every NXT show, every time he fancied some company in Renee's absence. She didn't have all the baggage of cynicism and propensity for dreary long-term thinking that ten extra years of adulthood had engrained within himself and Renee. She was carefree, she was upbeat, she was a blessed release from the million different millstones that now hung around his neck. Her youthful energy was liberating and almost exotic to him. She was beautiful, and he hoped he wasn't being arrogant in believing she was developing something of a crush on him.

_'Woah, back the fuck up right this second, Sami Zayn,' _he began to internally scold himself once again.

_'What's wrong with you? She's just a kid. A naïve, inexperienced kid. And you've got a smart, sexy, confident, mature woman who'll be by your side again before you know it. Get a sense of perspective. And someday you'll be on the road with Renee and all this pain will be a distant memory.'_

Yeah, _someday_. He wasn't sure if he could deal with the uncertainty anymore.

* * *

"...And thus concludes perhaps the longest yawn I have ever done," Renee muttered wryly as she and Dean followed the herd of Superstars across the arrivals lounge. After nearly an entire day of flying, during which she'd mustered a combined total of about four and a half hours' sleep, they'd finally arrived in Melbourne.

Truth be told, if she hadn't had Dean by her side, she may well have cried the whole way. Her dread of the trip had turned to outright despair following her ordeal on Raw and things still being vaguely frosty (or frostily vague) with Sami at the time of her departure.

Nonetheless, her travel partner had somehow kept her in reasonably good spirits; he seemed to intuitively know when it was time to lighten the mood with a joke and when he was best off leaving her to silently brood. She didn't feel like ever straying too far from his side the whole time they were Down Under.

Even the short walk out of the terminal to their waiting bus was enough time for an avalanche of excited screams and yells to be directed their way by the devotees that invariably gathered having somehow gotten wind of which flight the talent would be arriving on. Renee soon realised this was the absolute worst time to be walking alongside a member of the Shield. Hystrionic teenage screaming was never the most pleasant of noises, but at a time like this it was like a chainsaw to the head.

Then, amidst the many breathless 'I love you, Dean's and 'believe in the Shield's, she heard it, clear as day; a high-pitched, mewling irritant of a voice:

"Renee, is it true what Stephanie said? Is your boyfriend dumping you? Who's your boyfriend? It's Sami Zayn, isn't it? That's what everyone says..."

She turned to look in the direction of the voice. The girl was all of about fourteen, Renee wasn't about to berate her. But she couldn't brush it off either. She merely fixed her a mournful, despondent look that gave away far too much.

"It's none of your _fucking _business, that's who it is!" Dean suddenly barked out of nowhere. The girl fell silent and she and her friends gawped in terrified awe. Renee would be lying if she said she wasn't slightly amused and relieved.

"You're never too young to know to keep your stupid fucking nose out of a stranger's personal life," Dean continued to grumble to himself as they got on the bus. Renee began to chuckle. He was cute when he was moody.

"So, what should we do when we get to hotel?" she asked, suddenly perking up as the took their seats beside one another.

"Sleep! What the fuck do you think?" Dean fired back incredulously.

"I'd love nothing more, but we'll never get our body-clocks in sync at that rate. Besides, as exhausted as I am, I'm not sure I could. Long flights always leave me on edge," Renee lamented.

"Me too..." Dean replied.

"...My solution is usually to drink myself unconscious. But I'm guessing that's not your style."

Renee couldn't imagine a more attractive suggestion in present circumstances. She was never a big drinker, and her alcohol intake had diminished yet more due to her WWE schedule, but if ever a situation merited taking leave of her professionalism and restraint, this was it. The film crew would just have to deal with her being cranky and hungover tomorrow. The least she deserved was a chance to let loose after everything this company and its bosses had put her through of late.

"Let's do it," she grinned mischievously.

This was exactly what Dean was hoping to hear. Renee, drunk, at a particularly low ebb, this was just the opportunity he had been waiting for. He'd lay her bare tonight; gain access to the darkest corners of her mind. He'd coax her into elaborating on all the sob stories she occasionally hinted at, the things that had conspired her to make her this deliciously vulnerable, alluringly breakable person. He'd offer a sympathetic ear, all the while revelling in the fact he was getting ever closer to possessing her.

This was his forte, as soon as he had all the relevant facts he'd be able to push all the right buttons. She'd stumble right into his clutches; haplessly let herself become his puppet, his doll, his toy. This once independent, confident young woman reduced to a simpering wreck that hung on his every word, catered to his every... _need_. He was turning himself on just thinking about it. All he needed to do was show her just how weak she really was.


End file.
